In stark contrast to my previous visit to Halong Bay, we were greeted with blue skies. There was a boat waiting for us at the jetty steps and we donned our bright orange lifejackets for the short trip out to our junk boat. A few years back, the Vietnamese government clamped down on less reputable firms offering Halong Bay tours after a number of tourists died when an unsafe boat sank during the night. The best friend of one of Ailsa’s colleagues was one of them. As a result of the changes, all the approved tourist boats are now painted white and safety standards have improved considerably. This was already in place when I was here but Ailsa’s last visit had been seven years ago, so she saw a real difference.

It only took a few minutes to reach the boat, the Hoa Binh, which was very similar to the one I’d stayed on before. The captain welcomed us aboard and introduced his crew. Ailsa and I were sharing a cabin on the lower deck. There are doors on either side but the cabins span the full width of the boat, each with two beds and an ensuite shower room. We were impressed with the cabin, which was very nicely presented, but slightly alarmed to find men right outside our window. It took us a minute to realise they were still tying up the small boat we’d come out on, rather than trying to spy on us, but we made a mental note to close the curtains before getting changed!

The table was beautifully set for lunch when we joined everyone back upstairs a few minutes later. We had a local beer with lunch, the appropriately named Ha Long Beer. It was cold and delicious and went well with the enormous banquet. We started with delicious grilled prawns, crab cakes and spring rolls, then soup, before the main courses of chicken, pork, vegetables, rice and noodles arrived. There were a couple of people who didn’t eat meat or seafood, so they sat at one end of the table and were overwhelmed with the number of dishes prepared just for them. Linda, the only true vegetarian, was given enough food for four people just for herself!

Utterly stuffed, we moved up to sit on the roof deck in the sunshine as the boat moved among the limestone karst islands. Halong Bay is made up of thousands of rocky pillars, ranging in size from Cat Ba island, over 3km long, to tiny mounds of rock peeping out of the waves. Most of them have been named, such as Kissing Cocks Islands – that one didn’t make us giggle at all, nope, not us. The Vietnamese name ‘Ha Long’ means ‘descending dragon’. Legend has it that the Chinese armies were driven back after the Vietnamese King prayed for help from the gods. A giant dragon flew down from the clouds and dived into the bay. The Chinese ships fled in panic and the islands grew up to protect the bay from future invasions.

We arrived in a small bay within a ring of islands. The crew ferried us over to a jetty on one of these islands. We climbed up a steep pathway cut into the rock to reach the entrance to a cavern. Nguyen led us down into the cavern, which was bigger than initially expected. He pointed out stalagmites and stalactites, showing us rocks which looked like turtles or faces and getting us guessing what the next one looked like.

He then told us how the people of Halong bay still hide in the cave during terrible storms. The women had ventured deeper into the cave and discovered a truly ‘amazing’ sight. Women are now brought here before their wedding to visit the ‘amazing’ cave. He sent us through first to see if we could spot the ‘amazing’ sight they’d discovered. I went first, climbing up the steps that led through a narrow archway. On the other side, the rock opened out again to reveal an enormous cavern that stretched way back into the island. It was at least 10 times the size of the last one. The centre of the cavern was supported by a thick pillar of rock, but it wasn’t the cavern or pillar which made the women cry ‘amazing!’, but the large stalagmite seemingly growing out the side of this rock pillar at about 45 degrees… Just in case there was any doubt, they’d shone a couple of red spotlight beams right on it. We obliged by enthusiastically crying ‘amazing!’ and laughing, but Isabelle got a bit embarrassed when Nguyen suggested a few photo poses for Christopher. Awkward…

We followed the pathway deep into the back of the cavern, admiring the rock formations and marvelling over the thousands of years it would have taken for them to be created. The whole cave was, well, amazing.

We came out higher up the rock wall, where a wooden deck had been built to provide a beautiful view out across the water. Our boat had been joined by several others, all waiting peacefully in the setting sunlight. As we got back in the little transfer boat, Ailsa noticed a small shrine on the side of the next island. Nguyen told us it was a memorial for people who had died in the bay, in particular a tourist boat which had sunk. We don’t know if it was the same accident one Ailsa’s friend had died in, but it was both sobering and comforting at the same time. Sobering to remember that tragedies happen in the middle of carefree holidays, but comforting to know the locals here still remember what happened and ensure those people are not forgotten.

Our journey back to the boat was timed perfectly, as we passed through the shadows between islands and watched the sun head towards the horizon. We took our cameras up to the top deck and watched the glowing orange ball drop slowly behind the last silhouetted peak. While the bar wasn’t quite up to the standard of the catamaran we’d had in the Galápagos, they still made us a great G’n’T. Happy hour meant three for the price of two, and it would have been rude not to!

We had moved down to the dinner table in the main cabin when we heard a shout and activity form the back of the boat. The crew had managed to harpoon a huge fish, which they’d attracted with lights shone into the water. It was at least a metre long and took several of them to get it out of the water. We all traipsed out to have a look, but weren’t expecting to see it still thrashing around. They eventually freed the multiple barbs on the harpoon and carried the fish triumphantly through the cabin towards the kitchen.

Most of us were still quite full from lunch, but the dinner was even bigger. We were served an assortment of seafood starters and spring rolls. This was followed by beef soup, stir fried vegetables, chicken and yet more rice and noodles. The main dish was steamed fish served in a carrot fishnet. The fish wasn’t the one we’d just seen paraded past the table – Nguyen told us they would earn quite a bit by selling that themselves – but it was definitely a discussion point. We couldn’t work out how they had made such a big net out of one continuous piece of carrot.

Our itinerary took us out to the beautiful Halong Bay for the next two days. Because we were staying on board one of the ubiquitous tourist junk boats, we left our main luggage at the hotel and took only a day pack with us. I wouldn’t fancy trying to climb on board with a full backpack even if there had been room.

Intrepid have built their reputation on the principles of responsible tourism – refilling water bottles and recycling where possible, avoiding activities which exploit vulnerable people or animals, using local guides and supporting the local economy and so on. The Intrepid Foundation matches any donations made and uses the money to support local groups and charities which aim to improve the lives of local people. Often on Intrepid tours, they will include a visit to one of these organisations to demonstrate how that money is spent. Before leaving Hanoi, we were taken to meet some of the children helped by the Blue Dragon Foundation.

Blue Dragon was set up by an Australian teacher, Peter, who had planned to retire and travel in Asia. In Saigon, he was approached by a young boy offering to shine his shoes. He asked why the boy wasn’t in school, but received no answer. After a couple of meetings, the boy trusted him enough to reveal he had been sold to a gang by his family, who believed they were sending him away for an education. Like many other street children in his situation, he was forced to work by shining shoes, selling souvenirs or cigarettes, and surviving on only a few hours’ sleep and a bowl of rice a day.

Peter set up the Blue Dragon foundation to help these street kids. They provide food, clothes, and most importantly education. Most street kids have had little schooling, but the foundation provides lessons from basic maths and reading, to languages such as English and Japanese and skills that will help the children find a proper job in future.

We were greeted by one of the volunteers who run this particular school. She introduced us to five of their ‘kids’, who ranged from 15 to 23 in age. Some have been coming to Blue Dragon for several years. The oldest two girls are now at university and doing well. They introduced themselves and taught us some Vietnamese phrases so we could introduce ourselves too. Then they joined us at the table, where they had prepared fruits and pastries for breakfast. They told us about their football team, which has been doing well in local competitions. That led to the inevitable discussion about the English Premier League – it always amazes me that children halfway round the world know more about players and managers than I do!

We talked for a while and then watched a video about the foundation. That first street boy that Peter had helped is now in his 20s and still working with Blue Dragon to help others in his position. They now have teams of volunteers across Vietnam’s major cities, talking about Blue Dragon where they know the most vulnerable children gather. Word of mouth is a powerful influence. Many of the children who come to the shelter are brought by a friend at first. After a few visits they realise it is a safe place and come back with more friends of their own. The ultimate aim is to reunite the children with their families, but where this isn’t possible, they will look after them until they are old enough to be able to support themselves.

The whole visit was very sobering. It really made me count my blessings and consider once again how fortunate I have been in my life so far. The work that Blue Dragon do can make such a huge difference to the lives of the children it saves. We bought some souvenirs to support them and I will definitely be making a donation to the Intrepid Foundation when I get home.

After bidding farewell to our hosts, we piled into a coach for the four-hour trip out to Halong Bay. The roads weren’t too bad getting out of the city, but got progressively worse as we headed out into the countryside, bumping over potholes and roughly surfaced roads. Although it was technically a dual carriageway, this seems to be more of a guideline in Vietnam. People generally used the outside lane for overtaking, although this quite often involved tailgating and beeping horns until the vehicle in front moved over, and generally used their own side of the carriageway, but it wasn’t uniformly observed. There was a smaller separate carriageway at the side for motorbikes – of which Vietnam has millions – but they often nipped up onto the main carriageway and occasionally backtracked in the wrong direction to cut the corner off.

I’ve seen my share of crazy Asian traffic, but even I flinched and applied the virtual footbrake a few times, before deciding the side window provided a more sensible view than the front. It wasn’t long before we all nodded off though.

To break up the journey, we stopped at a community craft centre. There are a number of these in Vietnam, particularly in the most popular tourist areas. They are a combination of showroom and workshops where traditional Vietnamese crafts are demonstrated for tourist groups, before they are herded into the vast showrooms and encouraged to buy as much as possible. Many of the craft workers are disabled – often a legacy from the Vietnam War – so these craft centres give them a means of supporting themselves. The one we visited on our way out to Halong Bay included a silk picture workshop. Beautiful pictures are made up of long stiches of fine silk threads, depicting rural scenes, vivid sunsets, Vietnamese people or views of Halong Bay. I can’t say I wasn’t tempted, but it was a bit early in the trip to buy something so delicate.

On my last visit to Vietnam, I travelled with two Brits (Josh and Simon) and two Swedes (Carl and Jonathan), whom I’d met on the Stray bus in Laos. We had continued though Cambodia and Vietnam together over the next couple of weeks. The boys and I had arrived in Hanoi at a bleary-eyed 5.30am off the Danang night train and crawled into the hostel for a sleep. We had then headed out on a 3-day boat trip in Halong Bay and I’d flown down to Borneo the following morning, so had seen very little of the city beyond the nearest streets around the hostel.

We started the trip proper with a walk around parts of Hanoi. The day dawned grey and overcast and didn’t improve much from there, although it was still in the high 20s and threatened another downpour like yesterday's. After breakfast, we headed out to visit the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum complex.

Ho Chi Minh unified the Vietnamese people and spent his life rallying against French and American occupation. He is still a deeply beloved figure in Vietnam and the Communist party still use his image and reputation today. After his death, the party decided not to honour his desire for cremation, but instead to follow the lead of their Russian counterparts and embalm him, preserving him for the people to worship.

The mausoleum itself is a tall square stone building set up on a pedestal base. To me it was reminiscent of the Lincoln memorial in Washington, though I’m sure that wasn’t their intention! It is set up above a large parade ground which still hosts regular military parades, ehich include salutes to the building. So strong was the feeling for Ho Chi Minh, that the Mausoleum is designed to be earthquake, food and bomb-proof. His body is sent back to Russia for three months each year for re-embalming to maintain the perfect preservation of the national hero. When visitors enter the mausoleum, they surrender bags, cameras and mobile phones before filing past slowly and respectfully. Guards watch closely and the experience is taken very seriously, almost religiously – no smiling is allowed. Unfortunately, Ho Chi Minh was on one of his annual trips, so we could only view the building from outside. I will have to save this experience for my next visit.

Not far behind the mausoleum was the Presidential Palace and grounds. The Palace is a stately French chateau built in 1906 and restored with a vibrant gold paint, which was once home to the General Governor of Indochina during the French colonial years. In December 1954, having taken over the Northern Vietnamese government, Ho Chi Minh refused to move into the Palace, instead building a modest stilt house in the grounds and reinforcing his image as one of the people. That said, he still had the use of a couple of beautiful classic cars to get around.

After the Palace, we moved on to the Ho Chi Minh museum, which contained three floors of art and creative installations which ‘unanimously depicted the love and respect that the people still feel for Ho Chi Minh’. We wandered around taking it all in, somewhat bemused by all the symbolism in the individual pieces, but impressed by the imagination and craftsmanship in others. It was loudly singing the praises of all things Communist, but felt overly propaganda-laden to be appreciated for the art itself.

Nguyen took some of us to a local place near the hotel for lunch. I’ve cooked my own version of Pho many times over the last two years and couldn’t wait to try the proper thing here again. Each place makes their own broth slightly differently and uses a variety of herbs and toppings. I remember the broth being deeper in colour and richer, but that may be because I only remember my own version now. Either way, the Pho here was lovely but still not quite what I’d remembered.

We had a free afternoon to explore on our own, but jet lag was still catching up with me so Ailsa and I decided to relax in the hotel and catch up. Having come straight from Japan, she had mundane things like washing to take care of, while I had brought a few extra things out for her that required fitting into her already densely packed rucksack. It was a role reversal from her visits to me while I was away. Great diary-writing plans fell by the wayside fairly quickly when Ailsa stuck her head out of the bathroom to see me flat out and starting to snore… My quick kip turned into a couple of hours but I felt much better for it.

Vietnam is known for its crafts with local specialities in each area. Northern Vietnam, and Hanoi in particular, is famous for its water puppet shows. Farmers traditionally performed the shows in waterlogged rice paddies but we had the slightly more comfortable surroundings of the Mua roi nuoc Bong Sen, the Lotus Water Puppet Theatre beside the Hoan Kiem Lake. The performance lasted an hour and included 12 puppet dances accompanied by traditional Vietnamese folk music. We had fun trying to spot the difference between the sacred animals: the unicorn, the tortoise, the phoenix and the dragon - should be obvious, right? Guess again. Only the dragons were unmistakeable as they came out breathing sparks, even underwater, which created a clever layer of smoke across the water. It was a fun evening, if slightly surreal.

We walked back along the lakeside towards the Old Quarter again for dinner. In the centre of the lake is a small island with the Ngoc Son Temple. Legend has it that the Emperor Le Than To was given a magical sword to drive the Chinese out of Vietnam. After the battle, a giant golden tortoise took the sword from him and dived into the lake, returning the sword to its heavenly owners and giving the lake its name, which means ‘lake of the returned sword’. (Thanks to Lonely Planet for clarification – the puppet version of this story wasn’t quite so clear…)

We had dinner at Geckos and watched the owner’s young children chasing each other up and down the restaurant in their pyjamas, despite her best efforts to get them into bed in the back room. The food was delicious. I particularly like the Vietnamese spring rolls made with rice paper netting. Vietnam has switched over to plastic notes for anything bigger than 5,000 Dong (for reference, there are about 34,000 Dong to the Pound and 22,000 to the US dollar). One of my notes was torn through the middle when I got my change, so I went up to ask for a different one, belatedly realising that sticking my finger through Ho Chi Minh’s face to point out the hole was possibly not my most culturally sensitive move. Oops. Fortunately they giggled and quickly found me an undamaged note.

After a much needed sleep for a couple of hours, we headed down to the welcome meeting, where we would meet our guide and travelling companions for the next two weeks. We’d seen everyone’s names on the noticeboard and had a guess at who would be in couples or travelling solo.

The first to arrive was a German couple in their mid-30s, Chris and Isabelle. We introduced ourselves and I spoke to them in German. I’m looking forward to practicing my German a little on this trip. We ordered a round of Hanoi beers as the rest of the group arrived. John and Annie were retired teachers from Chester, although John himself was from South Wales. The next couple, John and Lisa, were from the Midlands, and the last person to arrive was Sara, a 26-yr-old from Devon. The final member of the group hadn’t yet arrived at the hotel so we started without her.

Our trip leader was a Vietnamese man named Nguyen Nguyen. The Vietnamese language has six tones, indicated by numerous accents and squiggles on the letters. Nguyen is one of the most common names in Vietnam and our leader had it twice, although with different pronunciations. It sounds a little like ‘noo-wen’ but the tones indicate stresses in different places. He tried to teach us but we struggled to imitate him properly, except to say that his first name dropped down at the end, while his surname had more of a wave – up down up. Without the proper keyboard, I can’t even type it correctly here.

Nguyen comes from Saigon, or Ho Chi Minh City, in the south of Vietnam. He’s worked for Intrepid for several years and knew the route well, which was reassuring from the start. His English, while very good, took a bit of practice to listen to. In Vietnamese, each word is just one syllable, so Nguyen had a habit of dropping the end of words or syllables and we had to get used to filling the blanks ourselves. The welcome meeting was very thorough, but a bit too long for a group of people who’d travelled 24 hours to get there. After 2 hours, most people were falling asleep or had lost track of what he was saying. I translated a few sections for the Germans, who were definitely struggling to keep up with Nguyen’s English. His suggestion of creating a tip kitty for the various drivers and local guides we would have during the trip was a good one, but introduced too late during the meeting, and so it caused a lot of confusion.

Eventually we finished the meeting and piled into a couple of taxis to head over to the Old Quarter for dinner. I’d almost forgotten it was my birthday by that point as we’d been awake and travelling for so long. When we reached the backpacker area of town, it was unmistakeably Hallowe’en. The streets and bars were full of people in fancy dress and the windows were filled with pumpkins, ghosts and cobwebs. I had no idea they celebrated Hallowe’en in Vietnam! I suspect it was only in the backpacker areas, but it still put a smile on my face.

Nguyen had reserved a table upstairs in one of the restaurants, rather than sitting us outside with the bustle of activity all around. In some ways, this was a good idea for a first group dinner – we could actually hear ourselves talk for a start – but it missed out the atmosphere that reminds me so much of my last visit. The food was good, but as the only other people there appeared to be another Intrepid group, I felt we were a bit segregated and hope this wasn’t the way our whole trip would go. John and Lisa went off to find a restaurant their friends had recommended instead. The nice thing about Intrepid trips is that you’re not obliged to stay with the group the whole time and have some freedom to do your own thing, but equally there is a group of new people to get to know and share experiences with.

After dinner, most of us were ready to crash so got taxis back to the hotel. We knew the Rugby World Cup Final was in progress, but hadn’t spotted anywhere that seemed to be showing it and didn't have the energy to walk around the Old Quarter looking for it. The irony was not lost on me that the Rugby World Cup was being hosted in my home country, with the final being played on my birthday, and I had managed to book myself on a trip halfway aroung the world in country which doesn't play rugby. Ailsa and I headed straight up to our room when we got back, without realising John and Annie had persuaded the hotel staff to find the rugby on the TV in the bar – if only I’d known, I could have watched the end of the match with them and seen the All Blacks make history by retaining the Webb Ellis trophy. But instead, I was asleep within seconds of hitting the pillow…

This is my first big trip abroad since getting back from my Big World Adventure last May. The past 18 months have seen me spending the summer with my parents, getting to know my 18-month-old nephews, looking for and finding a new job back in the world of medical sales, moving south to Berkshire, playing softball again, making new friends and meeting a fella, finally getting my things out of storage and living in my own place again. It has taken a while to get used to 'real life' again after so long on the road, but I am very happy with my new life.

The one thing I haven't done much of is travel. It has taken so long to process how much I actually did, the places I visited, the people I met and adventures I had, that even contemplating another trip was too much for me for a while. Thankfully, my best friend and travel buddy Ailsa, who knows me better than anyone, persuaded me to book a trip to Vietnam back in January, knowing that by the time the trip came around I'd be ready to go again. She was right.

Those of you who've read my Galapagos blog will remember us meeting Juliette. We got chatting at the start of the trip and discovered she'd actually grown up in the next village and went to the same school as me, albeit a couple of years ahead. She and Ailsa have since been to Tibet and Nepal together. Juliette booked this Vietnam trip with her Mum and was happy for us to gatecrash too.

I met up with Juliette and Deidre at Heathrow on Friday morning, my rucksack back in use and ready to fly. I knew I would be bringing back souvenirs on this trip, so I have deliverately packed lightly. I'm looking forward to getting clothes made in Hoi An now that I had a job to wear them for.